The Darkest Sun
by Salamence Lord
Summary: Hehe... I'm no good at summaries. You want to read the real summary, just click on the story. Anyway it's about a deadly disease, mixedClan blood, and a young cat's identity crisis. R&R, please! I will try not to make it boring!
1. Summary

Summary:

The Clans are prospering. Life is good, and prey is abundant in the forests, plains, and even the coldest mountains. No natural disasters for a long time, and no Twoleg invasions.

Till now.

The Twolegs have created a new species of disease, meant to be used to treat what they call HIV, but the experiment for this cure has turned horribly wrong. This new species of virus multiplies like aphids on a leaf. They are lethal to all animals, but particularly so to cats.

House cats are dying. Alleycats are dying.

So are Clan cats.

There's only one way to save these feral warriors from certain death. A gene that offers immunity against this virus.

However, this gene can only work if the four different bloodlines – one from each of the Clans – are mixed together. And you know how it is with the Clans: no half-Clan heritage, please. So when the plague sweeps the forest, the Clans are plunged into panic.

Only one cat can help them all: the question is who, and how?


	2. Prologue

**Prologue: The Prophecy**

A lithe white figure entered the snow-padded clearing. Moonlight glanced off his glossy pelt as he sat down on his haunches. Another, smaller feline approached the white one. Antlerstar glanced down at the newcomer.

"What is it, Nightraven? You wanted me?" He enquired. Nightraven – the smaller cat – bowed her dark head in greeting, and wound her tail around primly-tucked paws.

"I come with news, Antlerstar. DreamClan has sent me a message. It is a prophecy. They say that dark times are ahead, evil is rising." She lifted her eyes from her paws and glanced at Antlerstar, who nodded for her to go on. She drew a shaky breath and continued.

"The star is hidden by the clouds. The hope in our minds is gone. The trouble, the doubts, the seeds of darkness. The battle that can never be won. Water's Daughter, Fire's Son, the Coldest Light, and the Wind's Song. The sky shall weep for the plight of the Clans. The four will come together as one. The earth will shake our very roots. The only hope is the Darkest Sun." Nightraven recited the prophecy to Antlerstar, whose eyes widened in surprise.

"I have never heard of these before. Water's Daughter, Fire's Son... Who could that be? Coldest Light... No. I don't know. Wind's Song. Could that possibly be the Willow Grove? The place where the wind whistles? And the Darkest Sun... A dark sun? What does it mean, Nightraven?" He rounded on the medicine cat, fierce intensity burning through his eyes.

"I don't know! DreamClan is never straight to the point with their prophecies!" Nightraven confessed, with her voice thick with despair.

Antlerstar stared into the distance as if his green eyes were searching for an answer. After what seemed like an eternity, he looked back at Nightraven. "You may go. Thank you for telling me the prophecy."

The sleek black cat stood up, dipped her head at her leader, and left Antlerstar alone, gazing at the stars.


	3. I: Bloodlines

**Chapter 1: Bloodlines**

The centre of the camp was thronged with cats. Warriors and apprentices alike were having their meals, sharing tongues, or simply killing time. Two white cats were exchanging gossip; a grey tom was burying the remains of a meal; a small cluster of apprentices lay under an oak tree, listening to an elder's tale. Only a few cats were alone.

One of these was sitting at the base of a rock, his head lifted towards the sky, watching the sun set. The red-and-gold sphere was slowly descending from its throne, engulfing the clouds in flame. The mountains that half-obscured it was painted a brilliant scarlet; the sun's rays dashed off them like raindrops on a slick pelt. The sky behind him was already filmed with various shades of grey and blue. Only remnants of light shone on the barren wastelands far to the west of OrcaClan's territory.

His dark fur was the opposite colour of the setting sun. It stood out starkly against the brilliant light like an unwelcome loner, black against gold, blue against red. The apprentice's whole torso was as black as midnight; his paws were a slightly lighter shade of midnight blue. He sat there, unmoving, as the great orb steadily fell.

A pair of cats around the same age of the observer appeared behind him, discussing the matter of being made an apprentice slightly later, with the she-cat complaining about being left behind. At the sight of the black tom, the stockier, grey one squared his shoulders and steeled himself, shielding his companion from the black cat. The expression on his face was like that of an apprentice confronting mousebile: pure loathing.

The silvery she-cat looked at her friend, uncomprehending. "Smokepaw! What are you doing? Stop blocking my way! What _is_ it that you're hiding from me anyway?" She struggled to peek over the grey tom's back, finally catching sight of the black one. "It's only another apprentice, for goodness sake! You ought to know him; you've been an apprentice for half a moon already!"

Smokepaw rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You've only just been apprenticed today!" Then, turning serious again, he returned to the topic of the black apprentice. "Don't go near him, Whisperingpaw. Whatever you do, never be alone with him. The more he knows about you, the more dangerous you are. You can't trust him, not that cat!"

Whisperingpaw studied the cat-in-question, obviously puzzled. "Why?"

"He's a _half-Clanner_," Smokepaw hissed to Whisperingpaw, with a pointed glare to Eclipsepaw. The young she-cat shook her head at her friend. "He can't possibly be, Smokepaw. He looks no different from us!"

Smokepaw growled in exasperation. "Half-Clanners have no fathers. They always live in their mother's Clan!" His rusty amber eyes glared at her, clearly not hiding his frustration.

Whisperingpaw cast an incredulous look at her friend. "If you insist," she said, and trotted over to the young cat. "What's your name?"

He glanced at her, and replied, "Eclipsedpaw."

"Who's your father?"

"Blueclaw of WalrusClan."

Whisperingpaw backed away. "So it's true! You really are a half-Clanner!" She spun and raced back towards Smokepaw, who snarled a warning at Eclipsedpaw to stay away. Whisperingpaw huddled beside Smokepaw. "I had no idea there's a half-Clanner in our Clan! I thought only Clan cats are allowed to stay!" Her eyes were wide with astonishment.

Smokepaw gave her a stare. "Didn't know you were so stupid! Of course there were other cats! Didn't you listen to your Father? He'd have told you! There were loads and loads of half-Clanners from the past!" Whisperingpaw shook her head, and took a quick look at Eclipsedpaw, who averted his gaze immediately. She felt sorry for the young tom, but decided against apologising to him for her behaviour; after all, half-Clanners were supposed to be dangerous and traitorous, and she was the leader's daughter. She wasn't supposed to have even spoken to that Eclipsedpaw!

The silver apprentice turned back to Smokepaw. "Father wants me to sleep in the den today. But he'll be sleeping there too, won't he?"

Smokepaw nodded down imperiously at her, even though he was only the Deputy's son, and she was the "princess" of the Clan. "Don't worry, I'll protect you," he proclaimed. "You'll be safe from that filthy-blooded creature."

Whisperingpaw, still slightly doubtful, followed the grey-furred tom into the den, her green eyes trained on Eclipsedpaw all the time.


	4. II: First Patrol

**Chapter 2: First Patrol**

"Hey, Smokepaw, get up!" A small silver form crouched beside a sleeping grey one, rapidly prodding him with a paw. Smokepaw rolled over, muttering something about nightmares, and sat up. Drowsy-eyed, he regarded the den with slight confusion. "Uh... In case you hadn't noticed, I was asleep!" He growled at Whisperingpaw, who was trying in vain to mask the amused look on her face.

"Freshleaf said we're going Dawn patrol today, and that Swiftwing wanted you to come along too. You'd better hurry and wash that mossy stain off your pelt; Swiftwing may be gentle, but he really can bite!" She mewled with laughter and raced off to her mentor. It was still dark outside, with only a few faint rays of sunlight from the east, but she could still make out Freshleaf.

Freshleaf was waiting beside the fresh-kill pile, which was perilously empty, carrying two mice and a vole in her jaws by the tail. Setting them down before an eager Whisperingpaw, she told her to eat. "Hurry up," the she-cat ordered, "Time doesn't wait for slow paws. Swiftwing will be here in no time." Whisperingpaw tucked her paws in and began to tear at a mouse.

Soon, it had disappeared, and Whisperingpaw was licking the bones clean for the second time when a glassy-eyed Smokepaw was dragged along by Swiftwing. The grey apprentice stifled a yawn. Swiftwing, on the contrary, looked smart and ready. His brown fur was slicked back, and his sharp yellow eyes caught everything – including that yawn. He promptly deposited Smokepaw on the ground. Smokepaw darted an accusing glare at his mentor, as if to say, "I'm supposed to be still asleep," and dug into his vole.

Freshleaf had already eaten. She nudged the last mouse towards Swiftwing, who shook his head, indicating that he wasn't hungry, and Whisperingpaw snatched up the piece of prey. The silver she-cat shared out the rodent between herself and Smokepaw, who was more alert than a few moments before. The black tom nodded his thanks before proceeding to finish it. Whisperingpaw savoured every mouthful of the mouse, silently thanking DreamClan that the Leaf-bare had passed uneventfully. She had been born in the late moons of Leaf-fall, when her mother – a bolt of grief shot through her – had died from kitbirth. She was the only of the three kits that lived, and had been nearly struck down by Kitcough in her later moons of kithood. Oh, if only her mother was still alive!

Shaking those thoughts away, Whisperingpaw finished the last morsel of the mouse with a gulp. She dug a hole in the sandy earth and buried the remains of her meal. Smokepaw did the same with his, sweeping sand over the bones until the hole was filled up. Freshleaf and Swiftwing were engaged in small talk at the brambly tunnel that linked the camp to the Wet Forest. The two apprentices hurried over to the warriors, and the patrol set off into the Forest. They added their scent marks on the borders and proceeded towards the small, flat Sunrise Hills "for a quick hunt", as Swiftwing put it. The patrol scaled the first of the peaks—and Whisperingpaw gasped.

The sun was rising. The clouds to the east turned crimson, gold and finally their pure white in turn. The sun itself was a brilliant fireball of red and gold, setting everything it touched on fire. Whisperingpaw simply gawked at the sight. She had never, never woken up early enough to see a proper sunrise before. She took in everything with awe, and saw her own self, together with the light and the beauty of a dawn, mirrored in Smokepaw's amber eyes. Her own green ones were mixed with red brilliance and soft gold, the signature colours of the sun and the clouds and the sky... and everything around them. She was lost in space and time for those few moments, struck by the beauty of it all.

A voice jerked her out of her reverie. "Get going, apprentices. If that's how you react when you see a mere sunrise, imagine what it'll be like when you first encounter the Wave." Freshleaf's curt voice cut in. Whisperingpaw let out her breath in a contented sigh and followed her mentor towards the more densely vegetated parts of the Hills.

* * *

"Hyahh!" A silver-and-white blur rushed out of the bushes and pounced onto an unsuspecting rabbit. Whisperingpaw stood back and admired her results. One rabbit and a thrush hatchling that she found below a tree. That was good work. For an apprentice that started training late, had just received seven days of training and was on her first patrol, it was unbelievable. The small she-cat carried her catch back to the meeting point, where Swiftwing was waiting with a mouse, a vole and another rabbit. 

"Congratulations, Whisperingpaw, you learn fast." He nodded appraisingly at her. "Keep it up!" After a second glance at the small pile of fresh-kill, Swiftwing sighed. "You can eat something if you're hungry; we aren't on a hunting patrol anyway."

The young apprentice glowed with pride at the comment, then flushed, embarrassed, as her belly gave a loud complain. She picked up the thrush and began to tear off the feathers eagerly.

Smokepaw returned, followed by Freshleaf, just as she finished burying the remains. The tom raced over and nuzzled her excitedly. "I caught two mice and a vole! Freshleaf said it was wonderful!"

Whisperingpaw looked dejected. "Well, you've been an apprentice for three quarters of a moon already! Soon, you'll be taught to hunt even more, and even faster, then you'll begin learning to fight!" Her voice almost rose to a wail. "It's so unfair, me being behind everybody else! Just because I was sick in my fifth moon..."

Smokepaw grinned comfortingly at her. "You'll catch up. Anyway, I won't start on fighting anytime soon. With some luck, you could be made a warrior earlier, together with me, if you're hardworking."

Whisperingpaw bobbed her head enthusiastically. "Okay. I'll try. I must be made a warrior together with you!" She stood up, with her head held slightly higher, determination in her eyes. Freshleaf gave a small, affirmative nod and an encouraging smile. The patrol began to move on.

* * *

Hopefully this fits the bill for being "much longer"? Some background to what happened to Whisper, I hope. What's the warrior word for Autumn?

* * *


End file.
